Dark Kiss (The Two sides of me Book 1) (9 page)

“I’m fine, don’t worry about my leg,” he breathes.

“It’s my job to worry about your leg,” I pant between kisses, and he pulls his face from mine so that we’re nose to nose.

“You’re officially off the clock,” he says with that smirk, oh my God, that smirk I can’t resist. I attack his mouth with more passion this time, and wind my fingers through his soft, thick hair on both sides of his head urgently, as he moves his hands from my ass up my back and under my sweater, caressing and unhooking my bra with skill.  I’m unaware until it loosens that he’s managed this, and then he feathers his hands around to my bare breasts cupping them one in each, and teasing my nipples into hard peaks. I suck in a sharp breath and he rocks his hips upward into me. Hot lava replaces my blood and I’m so far gone that I have no awareness of my surroundings. It’s just Evan and his sweet, wet mouth on mine, moving to my neck and as he raises my sweater up over my naked breasts and he sucks one and then treats the other to the same attention. I feel like I’ve been drugged, like I’m in the midst of an out of body experience, floating above us and looking  down on the woman grinding atop Evan in his bed…that woman is me…. Fuck what am I doing? A hard rap on the door breaks the spell and I sit up, looking Evan in his heavy-lidded, lustful eyes and I swing myself off the bed with quick agility before Evan has time to restrain me. I reach behind to hook my bra just as Mr. Saint opens the door and realizes he has interrupted something. Probably from my flushed cheeks and Evan’s fury, he begins to back out and close the door before uttering so much as a word.

“FUCK, if he hadn’t worked for me for 10 years he would be FIRED!!” Evan yells, loudly enough for the entire island to hear, and I jump and move even further away from the bed. Still dazed from my actions and startled by the yelling I move toward the door, grabbing my purse on the way. I need to get out of here and think about what I’m doing; so unprofessional, and this is supposed to be my
job.
“Mia, where are you going?” Backing out, I look at his lovely, twisted and angry face. “I need to get home, it’s late, and I’ll be back in the morning at 7.”

“You can’t leave me, I need you, and I’m paying you to be my nurse.” He’s going into panic mode now, I can see it starting.

“You said I’m officially off the clock.” Hmmm how’s he going to argue with that one? “Well, I changed my mind. I need help with dinner and getting undressed for bed, don’t you have meds to give me or something?” Shit…good point. I really can’t refuse him, it’s only eight o’clock and technically I’m scheduled until eleven according to our agreement. I set my purse down slowly and he visibly relaxes, shifting back onto the pillows behind him. “Ok…I’m going to find Mr. Saint though to get that tour of the house and see about your dinner, no more of
this,
” I say, waving my finger in a circle between us.

“All right…but what’s wrong with
this?
” he says repeating my gesture.

“It’s totally unprofessional and if you want me to do my job we can’t be doing this again.”  I sweep my finger between us in an exaggerated circle this time, he chuckles and grabs the remote, switching on a massive television that appeared from behind two sliding panels in the wall behind me.

“I’m not known as a patient man Mia, but for you I will try.” That’s it, apparently I’m dismissed and he begins watching a basketball game. Well I’m glad he finds it that easy to turn all of
this
off, because I’m in serious post hot/wet panty mode with no relief in sight; having morals sucks! I take a quick glance before I open the door and yep, he’s still hard as a rock inside those soft jeans; guess he’ll have to handle that one on his own. I smile to myself closing the door behind me.

“Mia!” he calls, and I open the door a crack.

“Yeess?” I sing song with trepidation. I thought we had this all settled. “Leave the doors open, I want to watch your hot ass walking away.” That smirk is spread across his face again, is he trying to kill me? I open both doors wide with a little exaggeration and purposely add extra effort into the sway of my hips walking away the lyrics of Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie pop into my head and I giggle, this may be kind of fun after all.

Chapter 13

“Purple Haze” by Jimmy Hendricks

All wound up and no place to go, I wander through the living room checking out the surroundings more closely now that I’m alone. A large cream-colored sectional is positioned around a fireplace like none I’ve ever seen…ever. It’s a grandiose monstrosity; a full-grown human could walk right into this fireplace. I’m not even sure that’s what you call it; you could cremate someone in there for God’s sake. It’s the centerpiece of the room, with five windows lining the side of the room facing the ocean with their deep royal purple curtains. Deep purple, grey and cream-colored throw pillows cover the sectional. Wooden claw feet peek out from under it, tying it in with the other old world wood furniture in the room. I’m no antique specialist but the pieces in this room must be very old and very well cared for, not to mention
very
expensive. He owns restaurants, how the hell is he so wealthy? I must research this topic in more detail with my b/f Google later. There has to be something else bringing in this kind of money, but then again I don’t know shit about the restaurant business and he said clubs too, didn’t he? The dining room is next, through more double doors off the living room and I approach a table that seats 12 or more; what is it with guy and size anyway, everything is
so big
! Touches of purple continue in this room as well, a large breakfront on one side.  There’s a mammoth plant in the corner, one that looks like it belongs in a jungle and not the dining room of a millionaire on Mercer Island. A hutch completes this area; the space is huge and accommodates the furnishings nicely. I hear movement and voices around the corner and follow them, hoping to find Mr. Saint for a proper tour. I could get lost roaming around in here alone. Rounding the corner, I enter the kitchen and Cecelia and Mr. Saint stand talking in hushed tones to each other, they stop abruptly when they see me… Shit…this is embarrassing, “I’m so sorry Mr. Saint…. About earlier with Evan, I don’t know what got into him.” I figure I may as well just get to the point. His muscles stiffen and for a moment, just a split second, I think he glares at me, and then a mask replaces the anger.

“Are you ready for a tour now Ms. Galloway?” He’s just going to ignore my apology, or the fact that he had walked in on something he shouldn’t have seen, something that shouldn’t have been happening… Ok well if that’s how he wants to play it I’m game, less shit for me to deal with.

“Yes please, I’d appreciate that,” I reply, Cecelia is looking at the floor and Mr. Saint fails to introduce us so I step forward and offer my hand “Nice to meet you…Cecelia isn’t it? I’m Mia.”

Peeking up at me, she’s surprised by my introduction and she shakes my hand gently, pulling away and returning to something she’s been cooking before I interrupted. Man, the people around here are all a little off, but then again, look who they’re working for, right?

“Well as you can see this is the kitchen.” Mr. Saint gestures to the impressive, obviously chef worthy kitchen, all of the appliances oversized and quite possibly of commercial quality. There is white wood cabinetry with glass panes that you can see the contents through, and everything is intricately organized. It seems each thing in those cupboards is lined up perfectly, maybe obsessively would be a better description. I nod and Mr. Saint starts walking away. I hustle to catch and follow him back through the dining and living rooms, and he points at the closed slider doors that I saw when we arrived earlier. “Mr. Lawson’s office.” Not much for chitchat is he? We continue past the office, down a long hall peppered with lighted pieces of artwork, some looking familiar. Wow, those must be famous if I can recognize them; I know nothing about art. Mr. Saint points along the way, educating me on what each area is used for; a study, sun room, library, and another living room type area, just more casual with a large television instead of a mammoth fireplace. Circling back from where we started to the staircase, we climb and take a right, and I can see that this must be what’s considered a “wing” of the house. Several bedrooms, bathrooms, and a few spaces used for storage, one made completely of cedar and smelling divine. How big a house does one man need anyway? We follow a path that wraps around facing the back of the house, through floor-to-ceiling windows I see an elaborate garden, pathway and pool; it finally ends with the ocean and a dock all lit up by old fashioned lamps. I can’t wait to see it in the daylight tomorrow- I love gardens. My parents have a beautiful one that I spent lots of time in growing up, but I have no yard or garden living in an apartment now.

We continue on past the stairs and through the opposite wing, and return to the foyer. “I should really get Evan some dinner, it’s late and he hasn’t anything since lunch,” I inform Mr. Saint.

“Cecelia is seeing to his meal,” he answers, in his cold monotone voice.

“Ok then I’ll check on him and see if he needs pain medication.”

“Ms. Galloway, I know it’s not my place to say, but you should be careful around Mr. Lawson, he isn’t like most men…he seems different with you, I admit, but the man I know can be…challenging and demanding…. to say the least.” I’m shocked. Yes, these people live under the same roof as Evan and have known him for years and I have only known him for little over a week, but for some reason this comment really pisses me off and defense mode returns, exposing my claws. What the hell is he talking about anyway?

“You’re right Mr. Saint, it’s
not
your place, and I am here as his nurse, to care for him.” Answering him sharply, I take a step closer to him. He raises his eyebrows at my boldness.

“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you, I’m just trying to…. protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting!” I’m so angry my hands are clenched into little fists at my side and my vision blurs for a second, my eyeballs are shaking in their sockets.

“Well, alright then, suit yourself, and let me show you to your room.”

“I told you I wouldn’t be needing a room.” What’s with these people, do they not hear? 

“Mr. Lawson wanted it readied for you so it has been, I’ll just show you were it is in case it becomes necessary,” he says, as if he knows something I don’t. Back to business, we head back past the mammoth fireplace to a door in a nook behind the living room and
right
next to Evan’s. I sigh and roll my eyes at Mr. Saint’s back. Opening doors that match the master suites, he gestures me inside and I appease him by stepping in to check it out. It’s lovely, all white and soft lavender, and a large canopy bed in the center with gauzy material draped over it. The ensuite bathroom light is on, so I peek inside another large room; feminine is the first thought that comes to mind. A gilded mirror over a vast vanity, a claw foot tub surrounded with so many candles it’s probably a fire hazard when they are all lit, and a door with a small window in it peaks my curiosity.

Padding across the room’s thick carpet, I open the door to a sauna, as hot as the Nevada dessert inside and I close it and catch myself in the mirror. Mouth hanging open in awe and disheveled, I look pathetic. This day has been entirely too much to absorb. Mr. Saint stands on the threshold of the room, waiting patiently.

“Is that everything?” I ask.

“Yes, I’ll leave you to him now- if you need anything Cecelia and I live in the west wing of the house, and there are intercoms throughout which are very easy to use. Just press the button and speak,” he instructs.

“Thank you.” I pass Mr. Saint and return to Evan’s room to find him finishing his dinner. “Almost finished?” I ask.

“Yes, did you eat?”

“No, I’ve been getting the grand tour, takes forever to see it all.”

“Oh, you didn’t see it all, there’s more, he didn’t take you downstairs. There’s a full gym, lap pool, and squash court.”

“How did you know he didn’t take me there?”

“I have a security system, I followed along with you from here.” He points at the television screen, where several small square boxes that remind me of the Brady Bunch show, with a view of each room in the house.

“Wow, paranoid much?”

He chuckles, I really love it when he laughs. “Just like to know what’s going on under my own roof.”

“Well if you didn’t have such a massive roof you wouldn’t have to worry about all that.” I gesture at the screen.

“I make a lot of money nurse Mia…it needs to be spent somehow, and I give an obscene amount to charities,” he answers, with his chosen endearment for me, will I always be known as
nurse Mia?
His generosity to charities intrigues me though; I wouldn’t have pegged him for that. 

“Well Mr. Lawson, you’ve done a good job of spending money that’s for sure. What charities do you give to? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Safe Horizons, Joyful Heart Foundation, and shelters for battered women all over the country, Futures without violence, I can’t remember them all really.”

Wow, those are some interesting choices’ makes me wonder about his past- maybe he’s a victim like me. Knowing all too well about being a victim, I know not to push the subject, and he needs to rest anyway.

“Are you getting tired, need pain medication?”

“No pain meds, but I do need my sleeping pills.”

“Sleeping pills, I don’t remember bringing any sleeping pills with us from the hospital.”  “They aren’t from the hospital, I’ve taken them for years, they’re in the bathroom.” He points toward his ensuite bathroom. “

Can I take your dishes to the kitchen?”

“Yes, and have Cecelia see about some dinner for you while you’re there.”

“I’m ok, I can eat when I get home, I’m used to eating in the middle of the night anyway, night shift, ya know?” His demeanor changes and he looks down at his hands, I feel a shift in the air in the room.

“Evan, you ok?” No response. Oh no, not this again. I approach the oversized bed and crouch down next to it so I can look up into his downturned face- his eyes are glazed again. Shit, he really should have had his damned brain scanned before leaving the hospital. “Evan, do you know where you are?” I repeat the questions from this afternoon and he continues to stare, expressionless, at his lap. I can’t give him sleeping pills when he’s having trouble with blackouts.

“Mia?” he says, looking at me, confused. He’s back… thank God.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” I ask him and he starts scowling at me.

“Why are you down there?”

“Evan you blacked out, you were unresponsive, and you didn’t answer my questions. I’m really worried about you, please let me make you an appointment for a CT tomorrow.” He looks at me, expression changing dramatically. Thoughtfully tipping his head to the side, he reminds me of a puppy I had when I was little that cocked his head when you asked him a question. But thankfully, he answers me with what I wanted to hear.

“Ok, if you spend the night tonight, I’ll go.” Oh…my…. God…. this guy was good at manipulating situations to his benefit; he knows how much I want him to go tomorrow. I’m now seeing how he works; no wonder nobody ever says no to him. I look down between my knees at the floor, slouching my shoulders in defeat and sigh heavily.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Yes you’ll stay?” He sounds surprised, although why I don’t know. Could he possibly be unsure of how much I care about his health at this point? I took the damn job, didn’t I, and left what I’ve been doing for 10 years?

“Yes Evan I’ll stay,” I sigh again, I’m so tired, it’s almost a relief to stay and not worry about how I’m getting back to my car, and I am so subjugated. After sleeping in a chair last night with no medication to chase away my nightmares, and dealing with Evan all day, I’m totally exhausted.

“You’re tired, go ahead to bed, I admit I have manipulated all of your time today.”

“And last night,” I add.

“And last night, yes.” I look at him expectantly, exasperated at his lack of manners as I rock back, resting my bottom on my heels.

“What?” he asks. “A thank you would be appropriate.”

“Mmmm yes…thank you,” he says painfully. What is it with this guy and manners?

“Well I have to get you squared away before I can go to bed. Dishes please.” I stand and gather the tray with his dinner dishes from his lap and carry it to the kitchen, where Cecelia is cleaning up.

“Oh Ms. Galloway I can get that, it’s my job to do it, please.” She’s so skittish, man, what does he do to these people to make them all so edgy?

“It’s no problem, I don’t mind. I’m going to help him get ready for bed and I just needed to get them out of the way.” I reassure her, going back to his room I notice a fire burning in the fireplace, a huge fire. I wonder who made that; it must take a forest to get that thing lit! When I enter his room I lay it on the line about the sleeping pills. “So, I’m not giving you the sleeping pills Evan. You blacked out twice today- it’s not a good idea to take sleeping pills to alter your consciousness until we know what we’re dealing with.” 

“I need them, I won’t sleep at all, so I always take them, have for years.”

“Well, you didn’t have a brain injury all those years and you have one now.” How long is he going to argue with me about this?

“If I have to get out of this bed and hop to the bathroom dragging my cast behind me to take them myself, believe me I will, and if you get any smart ideas about hiding them, I have backups, more than one stash so don’t even bother.”